


Second Chances

by emstrange



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, First Time, John Needs A Hug, Love, New love, POV John Marston, Protective John Marston, Red Dead Redemption 2 Spoilers, Slow Burn, Smut, Touch-Starved, Video Game: Red Dead Redemption (2010), Video Game: Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018), gang life, john marston needs a hug, red dead redemption 2 - Freeform, van der linde gang - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:56:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23534188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emstrange/pseuds/emstrange
Summary: You're Sadie Adler’s 18 year old daughter who was visiting when the O’Driscolls attack. How will you cope with gang life and your increasing feelings for someone who, on the surface, isn’t up for grabs?
Relationships: John Marston/Original Female Character(s), John Marston/Reader, John Marston/You
Comments: 13
Kudos: 75





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the premise of this story, Jack is a little bit younger. I just can’t hurt that boy’s feelings!
> 
> Pairing: John Marston x female reader
> 
> Warnings: None
> 
> Tumblr: emily-strange

It’s freezing. The world outside blanketed in snow and ice.

Everyone sits huddled into the small Colter shack covered in blankets and large coats; doing whatever they can to stave off the bitter chill that leaks inside.

Mrs Adler is situated between you and Mary-Beth. She cries into her hands and lets the tears drop freely onto her skirt.

“Mama, you have to try and calm down” you say softly. Only to be met with more wailing. You take a deep breath and make your way to the other end of the shack where John, you think his name’s John, lies in a terrible state after his wolf attack.

You can’t help but sigh and rub your forehead, trying to ease the tension that keeps building. You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a croaky voice.

“Things really that bad?” John quietly asks before letting out a small laugh; followed by a hacking cough. You rush to sit on the little stool near his head and ease him up to help him cough better. After he’s done you lower him back down and smile.

“Oh you know. Been better.” you smile softly and place his freezing hands underneath the blanket that’s draped across him.

“Yeah I bet.” is all he can manage to say before wincing and you decide that a bit of light conversation might be a good distraction for you both.

“I just needed to breathe you know? Grief….it’s suffocating at the best of times let alone when you’re stuck with a bunch of strangers. Not that we ain’t grateful! I’m not saying that. Just….it’s….” you trail off struggling to find the right words but John jumps in with an answer.

“It’s like you’re being crushed.” he says and you give him a small, sad smile.

“Yeah…that’s about right….you know I haven’t even cried yet?” you whisper and hang your head in shame. John reaches out his hand from under the blanket and lightly brushes your hand to get your attention.

“Won’t lie. I don’t know everythin’ that brought ya to us, been kinda out of it. But…don’t beat yaself up so much. Can see it in yer eyes….won’t do no good. Ya doin’ all you can ‘n thatsa nuff.” he says through his broken, chapped lips.

You find yourself drawn to his eyes. Beautifully vibrant eyes that tell you he knows all about beating yourself up. You wonder what happened to him.

You give him a tired smile, “How did someone so wise get beaten by some wolves eh?”

It makes you happy inside to see John smile despite the terrible shape he’s in.

“Nah we’re tha same. Not beaten. Justa bit bruised” he huffs out.

Before you can say anything else, the woman who’s been sitting with your mother the most, bursts through the door with her little boy. If you had to guess you’d say he was about 2 or 3. The topic of children has never been one you’ve been interested in. You usually just nod and smile as people discuss them. You’re happier to actually have a chat with the children rather than the parent.

Abigail storms her way over to John and you jump up and out of the way.

“John” she says rather curtly, “the boy wanted to see ya.”

You look at Jack and to be perfectly honest, the kid doesn’t seem interested in the slightest. He’s looking at the blonde woman who’s sat in the corner drinking with an old man. She’s making faces and little Jack is loving it.

Your attention is snapped back when John answers Abigail. You weren’t aware that they’re a family. In all fairness your mind has been elsewhere the last couple of days.

“Yeah, well, now he’s seen me.” John grumbles at her, not even looking at Jack. You can tell that Abigail is instantly pissed off by this.

“Guess **I** was hoping to see a corpse!” she shouts before walking Jack away to be in front of the fire.

For a moment you stand shocked at what you’ve just seen. It’s clearly a very messy situation and with everything that’s going on, you’re staying far away from it.

John looks at you and you smile awkwardly before moving back to sit with your mother who collapses onto your shoulder. You put your arms around her and rock her back and forth, like she used to do to you as a child.

You can’t help but notice that John is still straining his neck to look at you before giving up and relaxing into the thin cot underneath him.

Days pass and you move on with the gang. The 'Van der Linde’ gang you learn.

You arrive at Horseshoe Overlook and begin helping unload the wagons. You can hear Miss Grimshaw screaming already and the sound cuts right through you. As you’re carrying a large bag over to one of the tents you see Arthur walking away from Dutch. From what you’ve gathered by listening, and what you’ve been told, Arthur is his right hand man.

The bag is taken from your hands and you look up to see your mother.

“Go on” she motions towards Arthur and you smile; jogging off to catch him before he mounts up.

“Umm excuse me, Mr Morgan?” you call out and he stops, turning to look at you. He genuinely seems like a nice man. Fatherly almost. You’ve not seen him lose his temper yet as you have with the other men. Well, other than kind Hosea of course.

“Yes, Miss Adler, what can I do fer you?” he asks and you smile.

“Y/N. Please.” you say and he nods, saying in that case you’re to call him Arthur. You nod.

“Okay, Arthur. Well I was wondering if you could put in a good word with Dutch for me?” you start, “See, my skills don’t really lie with sewing and washing. I’m happy to do that of course, you’ve all been so kind to me and my mom. I just….I’m a really good hunter.”

“Is that so?” Arthur says smirking, but not unkindly.

“Yeah. Living where we did, I had to be.” you laugh.

You don’t see it, but Arthur looks across the camp and see’s your mother watching you both. She nods and mouths “please”. He subtly nods back.

“Well, hows about this. The woman’ve been yappin’ at me that they’re bored. So when I get back from runnin’ this errand, I’ll take you all inta town 'nd we’ll get some supplies. We’ll go huntin’ and if I like what I see I’ll talk ta Dutch.” he smiles and turns to mount onto his horse.

You smile a real smile for the first time in what feels like forever.

“Thank you Mr..Arthur” you say correcting yourself.

“No problem. Now, go help out before Miss Grimshaw gets ta ya” Arthur chuckles before riding out of camp.

As you walk back toward your mom you hear a grown from inside a large tent. Curiosity gets the better of you and you glance inside to see John struggling to turn over on his cot.

“Hey, need a hand?” you ask quietly as to not make him jump.

“Ya know what. A hand would be mighty helpful” he laughs and you cant help but laugh too when you see the mess he’s gotten himself into trying to get comfortable.

However while entering the tent you can clearly see that John’s only wearing his union suit without the blanket covering him.

“Umm” you clear your throat, “Maybe I should go get Abigail?” you say trying to avoid looking in his general direction. You point outside of the tent and move to exit before John jumps in.

“God, no. Please just….just help me shift downa bit. Please?” John sounds so fragile and you just can’t find it in you to refuse him. You meet his eyes and fight a smile.

“Okay” you say and go over to help him move down the cot. He gets his legs into a comfortable position and holds onto your arm while you use your other one to support his upper-back. Once John’s comfy you find yourself just watching his relaxed face.

“Ah thanks. Much better.” he sighs and you smile.

You take a moment to study John in the light of his open tent. The scars on his face are healing well but still look sore and angry, as do his bruises. He looks almost frail. There wasn’t much to eat up in the mountains, everyone seems a bit gaunt but having been missing for so long John seems to be the worst.

John snaps you out of your trance.

“Haven’t seen much of ya.” he notes.

“Um, yeah, you know. Its all been a bit manic” you laugh humorlessly.

“I was uh, kinda worried Abigail said sumthin’ to ya.” he adds awkwardly.

That takes you aback.

“What? Um no….no she hasn’t said anything” you say quickly while glancing through the gap in the tent flaps. You can see Abigail ushering Jack into their newly designated area of camp. Your eyes snap back to John as he manages to prop himself up on his elbows.

“He….he ain’t mine.” he starts and you find yourself fiddling with your hands, “She tells everyone he is. 'nd I got nothin’ against the kid but….he ain’t mine.”

This really is none of your business. But you can’t help the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.

“Why…why would she lie?” you ask quietly but before he can answer, the flaps of the tent are pulled open.

“John!” Abigail shouts before coming to a sudden halt in front of you. Your eyes go wide and you can’t help but stutter like a child who’s been caught stealing candy.

“I…was just helping…John….but I um” you say quickly.

“But you was just leavin'” Abigail finishes for you which John admonishes her for.

“Abby for God’s sake” he starts but you cut him off.

“No, I was just leaving. B…bye John.” you say even quicker and give a clearly angry Abigail a small, awkward smile as you sneak past her. She doesn’t give you any extra room so you have to make yourself as small as possible to get past.

Soon as you’re on the other side of the tent she drops the flaps and starts whispering harshly to John. You stand for a few seconds trying to work out what they’re saying before you give up and make your way over to your mom.

“You okay baby?” your mom asks when you join her on a large rock just outside camp.

“Oh yeah. Fine.” you sigh and rub your tired face.

“You weren’t made to be cooped up like this” your mom says before she starts crying again, “I’m sorry this happened”.

“Oh mama don’t say that” you say before hugging your mother tight, “We’ll be okay.”

You hold your mother as she cries. Rocking her back and forth, all the while watching as Abigail storms back out of John’s tent. She catches your eye and you look away from her. You can’t deal with all this drama right now. You have to get yourself back on your feet; to start rebuilding your mothers life. The one that was so cruelly taken from her.

“We’ll be okay,” you repeat quietly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the premise of this story, Jack is a little bit younger. I just can’t hurt that boy’s feelings!
> 
> Pairing: John Marston x female reader
> 
> Warnings: Swearing, Mention of Blood
> 
> Tumbr: emily-strange

Arthur was true to his word. He took you into Valentine with the other girls and even lent you a bit of money to get some new clothes, which was greatly appreciated. You’ve been wearing a dress lent to you by Mary-Beth and considering you were wearing a nightgown when Dutch and Arthur found you, you really couldn’t complain. But having the chance to get back into a pair of jeans was amazing.

So kitted out in some new clothes and borrowing Arthur’s rifle, you both went hunting. Which was a great success. In one trip, you already had enough money to pay back Arthur and you had the feeling he was impressed.

He spoke to Dutch who agreed to let you out of camp on a trial basis. You weren’t particularly happy about being dictated to about your comings and goings, but this gang did save you and your mother so you decide to just go with it. For now, at least.

That was about three weeks ago.

And now you’re riding into camp (after being away for almost two days with Charles) with quite a bit of stuff for Pearson and some money in your pocket. Most of which is for camp but at least you can take your mom to town and get her a few things. Treat her to some new clothes and essentials.

“Hi mama” you say approaching her after delivering the meat and pelts to Pearson. Unfortunately, your mother was where you left her. Sitting by the campfire, just staring into the flames. She wasn’t doing well.

Your mothers always been a strong woman, she didn’t take crap from anyone. So, when Colm’s men attacked that horrible night, she became ruthless. Almost feral. You’d never seen such rage. If only there’d been less of them, maybe you all would’ve stood a chance.

But you can’t think about that. No, you need to be strong for the both of you now. She kept you both going during the long, horrible days and nights with the O’Driscoll’s. Now it was your turn to do the same for her.

“How’re you feeling?” you ask softly sitting down next to her, rubbing her back. Her eyes are red and puffy, they look so sore.

“How’d you think she’s feelin’?” Abigail bites, appearing out of nowhere to stand opposite you with her arms crossed, “Her husband’s gone and her only child is gallivanting around fer days on end!”

You were stunned into silence.

By the time your brain caught up with your shock, your mother had hurried off crying. Followed closely by her new best friend.

What the hell? You think to yourself. Totally confused.

You took a moment to watch Abigail hug your mother by her lean-to and fury took over.

How dare she! You scream internally.  
You throw yourself to your feet and storm off into the trees, making sure to put as much distance between yourself and the camp without actually leaving the area.

You make it to a secluded part by the cliffs edge and without stopping your fast pace, you pick up the biggest stone you can see and throw it off into the open cavern below.

Oh God. You think. What if there are people down there?  
Having had the wind taken out of your sails by the mere thought of hurting a passer-by, you edge closer to the side of the cliff. Hoping to peak over the top without being seen.

You move slowly…..

Slowly…..

You peer a tiiiiny bit over the edge, when….

“You know there ain’t no one down there, right?”

You jump back from the edge and squeal. Actually squeal. You turn around to see John sitting under the shade of a big tree reading a large book.

“Oh my God. John!” you gasp holding your chest and laughing, “I didn’t see you.”

“Nah didn’t think ya did.” He smiles back.

You hadn’t really seen much of John the past couple of weeks, with you keeping your head down and him doing the same. He looks so much better than he did. His scars are healing well.

“Wanna…..talk, about it?” he asks somewhat awkwardly, gesturing to the spot next to him on the ground.

You sigh loudly and smirk at his attempt at comfort. You nod and walk over to the tree, sitting down with a very unladylike thud and grunt.

“Just….people.” you smile at him.

“People are tha worst” John replies quickly making you giggle.

You rub your forehead and John hums.

“You do that a lot ya know.” You glance up in time to see him gesture to your forehead.

Looking up at him you’d say he almost looks….concerned.

“I get a lot of headaches…especially when stressed…everything’s stressful” you answer with another sigh before looking him dead in the eye and laughing, “Anyway, you been watching me John Marston?”

John lets out a gruff laugh and holds his book to hide his face before groaning, “Ahh pleaaase don’t call me that.”

You giggle again.

“What!? It’s your name?” you can’t help but increase your laughter at his bizarre request.

He moves the book and slumps back against the tree behind him.

“Don’t remind me. S’the only thing I hear.” He huffs out.

That’s when it clicks.

“Abigail?” you ask quietly and he nods.

“And Arthur. And Dutch. God an’ Hosea. But he says it with more disappointment than the others.” He explains and you nod along, letting him know you’re listening.

He looks so sad. So pale and drawn out.

You then remember the very, very, brief conversation those weeks ago in his tent.

“John…can I ask about….the ‘Jack’ of it all? You know, what you mentioned before?” you say quietly and almost regret doing so when his face falls even further. If that’s at all possible.

You’d tried to get some information from Arthur about the whole situation but he didn’t shed much light on the subject. He seems to have his own issues with John. You stopped your line of questioning very quickly once he started questioning you back about why you wanted to know.

Being nosy didn’t seem like a very good reason.

“He’s. He’s not mine.” John says looking you in the eye without a hint of anger or uncertainty.

“But you, had a…relationship? With Abigail.” you ask choosing your words carefully and he scoffs.

“If you cn call it that. We hada thing yeah. But we weren’t….together. Not really. She was still workin’…..in camp n outta it. The timin’s don’t add up. I know people think I’m dumb n maybe I am but….I’m not that dumb.” He says and finishes with a humourless laugh.

You don’t really know what to say. So you just nod. Silently letting him know he can carry on if he wants.

“I love her….but it’s not that kinda love you know?” You don’t really know, having never been in love, so you just stay quiet. “Anyway. Boy ain’t mine. Can’t be. But she’s said he is n that’s that. Guess she figured Dutch woulda believed any of the others if they said it weren’t theirs. N’ if it were some customer from a saloon then well…..she did what she hadta do I guess.”

“But have you told anyone all of that? Like, Hosea?” you ask feeling instantly stupid when he laughs. He catches the drop of your eyes and promptly stops.

“Sorry, I weren’t laughin’ at you. Its just real obvious you ain’t never been ina gang.” he smiles.

How have you only just noticed how nice his smile is? Your face heats up but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Moment she told me, I went ta Arthur. He’s like ma brother. Was like ma brother. He told me it was time ta be a man…..but hows that fair!?” he said raising his voice a bit and without meaning to, you flinch.

That he did notice.

He cleared his throat, “Sorry.”

“No it’s fine.” you say quickly, making sure he knows he didn’t do anything wrong, “You’re allowed to be upset.”

“So’re you ya know. About, ya know, what happened.” There’s that awkward attempt to comfort again.

You nod and bring your knees up, holding them to your chest, taking a long deep breath.

“Not sure that’s true you know.” You sigh, looking out into the blue sky. Trying to remember when things weren’t so sad. John just looks at you with confusion.

“I mean. Have you seen my mother? She’s a wreck. Of course she is, who wouldn’t be? But. We can’t both fall apart. She kept everything together for such a long time….she deserves her time to grieve. I can wait.” You say hoping to convince yourself as well as John.

You sit with John in a comfortable silence for about 10 minutes when you hear his name being shouted in the distance. It’s hard to tell but it’s a good guess to say that it’s Abigail.

“God dammit” John groans and rubs his face a bit too hard, causing one of his scabs to shift and a small amount of blood to rise to the surface, “Shit.”

You put your shirt sleeve over your palm and shift closer to John. You go to touch his chin, to guide his face to look at you but like you earlier, he flinches.

For a brief moment you both just look at each other.

Without saying anything you reach forward again and this time he lets you gently pull his face forward. You ever so gently dab at his face, getting rid of the visible blood spots. All the while his eyes are closed.

When the shouting gets a bit louder you pull back but, as you do, John seems to follow after your hand. Before he quickly catches himself and opens his eyes.

“Thanks” he says before coughing and looking anywhere but at your face, “Guess I should get back before she sends out a search party.”

You smile softly, “I’m sure she means well. Just worried I guess.”

John finally looks you in the eye and nods, grimacing from his leg wound as he stands up. Book in hand. You remain seated.

“Ya know, I uh, come out here quite a bit. No one from camp seems ta walk out this far.” He says looking down at you. You find yourself completely at a loss of how to respond so you just nod and say ‘okay’. He laughs a bit to himself and turns to walk into the trees before stopping and turning back briefly to you, “Maybe see you here again then.”

John doesn’t wait for you to reply before walking into the trees, away from camp again. You figure he must be doing a loop around so no one sees what direction he comes from.

You roll your sleeve back up and make a mental note to wash it before anyone sees. You don’t need to answer questions of how you have blood on your clothes but no injury.

You move into the spot John was in so you can lean back against the tree and watch the sun get lower and lower.

Before you know it, you drift off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the premise of this story, Jack is a little bit younger. I just can’t hurt that boy’s feelings!
> 
> Pairing: John Marston x female reader
> 
> Warnings: None.
> 
> Tumblr: emily-strange

You’re trying. You’re really trying.

But so far, other than her obvious love for her son, there just isn’t anything you like about Abigail.

For example, you overheard a conversation between her and Dutch earlier where she complained that Jack was never left enough food after everyone took their share. That alone wasn’t the issue. The problem you had was that when Dutch suggested the solution of John taking less, she made no argument.

From what you’ve seen, John takes the tiniest amount of food as it is.

You’d noticed it when you’d gone to get some from you and your mother the other night. He made it to the pot just before you and in his usual John awkwardness, asked if you wanted to go first. You smiled and shook your head and he took one spoon full.

The sad look on his face was enough to break your heart. He was so gaunt.

“Surely you’re hungrier than that John” you’d laughed while filling your bowls.

He’d given a small little shrug with a humourless huff before walking to join some of the men around the campfire.

You’d watched as he’d tried to make the food stretch. Taking tiny bits at a time and making sure to collect everything left in the bowl with his finger.

So yes, that along with her constant coddling of your mother was enough to make you bristle every time she was near.

It’d been a week since your chat with John at the cliffs edge and you’d decided to stay in camp to try and help your mother a bit more. And to get Abigail off your ass. You’re glad your mother has a friend but it is starting to grate on you.

Thankfully your mother has seemed to notice your annoyance and had thanked you for making the money you had out of camp. She’s always been intuitive your mother.

So currently you’re sat washing clothes with Tilly and Mary-Beth watching Jack poke and play with the campfire.

“Can I ask you girls something?” you say quietly, drawing the others attention.

“Go right ahead” Tilly answers.

You stop for a moment wipe the sweat from your brow, still looking at Jack.

“Do you….I mean….is….” you fumble for the right words, not wanting to cause any offence or potential dislike. Dislike for you that is.

“Just ask,” Mary-Beth says following your line of sight, “we won’t tell anyone.”

You look to both women and see how they’re smirking.

“Does Jack look like John to you?” you say bluntly.

Both women look to each other and Tilly gestures with her hand for Mary-Beth to continue.

“Well, frankly, no. He don’t.” she then lent in and whispered, “I’ve always thought he looked like Dutch to be honest.”

Tilly started laughing, “Oh he does not. I don’t see no one but Abigail in that boy.”

“But he has to have a father.” You say seriously and catch sight of John talking with Arthur at the edge of camp. Tilly brings your attention back.

“Look,” she starts, taking a deep breath, “I love Abigail. We all do. She’s a good mother and a hard worker. We all had to do things once upon a time to keep ourselves goin’ and I fer one think no less of her for that.”

You nod along because you don’t either. You really don’t. You know you were lucky to grow up how you did. A loving mother and father with a roof over your head. Never an empty belly or a mean word said.

You’d never judge anyone for doing what they do to survive.

“But to answer the question you ain’t actually asked. No. John ain’t that boys father.” Tilly states before Mary-Beth gasps her name, “Oh Mary-Beth please. We all know it just no one wants to say it. You think Jack looks like Dutch of all people!”

“Then why say it’s John?” you ask feeling a little silly as Tilly rolls her eyes teasingly.

“What was she supposed to do? Tell Dutch she’s pregnant but she don’t know who the father is?” Tilly asks knowing you wouldn’t have an answer, “She was still workin’ when she found out. But was also kinda seein’ John. He didn’t mind….”

“They was always kinda……explosive” Mary-Beth jumps in emphasising her words with hand gestures.

“Exactly.” Tilly continues, “But, that’s who I think Jack’s real pa is. One of them clients.”

You nod then shake your head, remembering your previous point, “But that doesn’t explain John…”

“She was workin’ and sometimes seein’ John. So…..he was the only real option” Tilly finishes and starts washing again when she spots Mrs Grimshaw across from camp. She tips her head in the same direction to silently tell you both to start working again.

You work in silence for a few minutes when Mary-Beth says quietly, “She does love John though….in her own way.”

You nod and carry on scrubbing when you spot Abigail storm up to John after Arthur leaves. You can tell she’s quietly shouting at him and he just looks so defeated. Suddenly she pulls her arm back and swings, colliding with his face in an echoing slap.

“Yeah” you say lowly, “In her own way."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the premise of this story, Jack is a little bit younger. I just can’t hurt that boy’s feelings!
> 
> Pairing: John Marston x female reader
> 
> Warnings: Mild panic/anxiety attack.
> 
> Tumblr: emily-strange

After your little talk with Tilly and Mary-Beth, you decided to check up on your mother. Miss Grimshaw was in a strangely happy mood (you put it down to being in the sun after the snow for so long) so she was alright with the women taking it a bit easier today; which no one was going to argue with.

You find your mother on the edge of camp sewing in the sun. That’s good you think. She’s keeping busy.

“Hi mama,” you greet before sitting next to her on the log “how’re you feeling?”

“Oh fine.” She says smiling, “How’re you baby?”

It’s so nice to see your mother smile again.

“Sore! I actually think washing clothes is harder than hunting” you laugh with her while trying to stretch out your back.

You look over the camp at everyone going about their day and you catch sight of Abigail making daisy chains with Jack. She’s sat on the ground, her skirt bunched up around her and you can tell how much fun they’re having.

“Remember when we used to make mud pies? And then one time I tricked papa into taking a bite?” you giggle to yourself at the memory. Your father was such a soft, sweet man. Your parents were the perfect pair in your eyes. You’re brought back to the present when you see your mom laughing and shaking her head.

“What!?” you ask incredulously and laugh when your mother snorts.

“Oh baby, you tricked no one” she laughed “Your daddy just wanted to see you smile.”

“No! You remember. It was dinner time. You asked me to set the table….and I served him the pie and he put salt on it before….” You stopped explaining your memory when it hit you, “Oh my God” you burst out into fits of laughter covering your face, “I was so gullible!”

Your mother elbows you gently in the side, “Oh hush, you were 9.”

You sit quietly groaning of very mild embarrassment and only show your face to the sun again once you hear your mother sniff, “I’m….I’m sorry mama. I know you don’t like to think about him.”

Your mother sighs and turns to you, “Oh baby. There won’t be a day that goes by I won’t think of your daddy.” She places her palm to your face and smiles sadly, her eyes wet with unshed tears and then you feel it. That prickle behind your eyes.

Not now, you think.

Not now.

You give your mother a small smile and nod before reaching up to squeeze the hand on your face. You clear your throat and manage to get out a strained, “I’ll be right back mama.”

She knows. Your mother always knows. So she doesn’t ask any questions when you practically sprint off into the trees.

You walk, walk, walk until you come to the familiar clearing.

You don’t quite make it to the little quiet spot before you breakdown into great heaving sobs. You find yourself panicking as you try to keep quiet and in turn start hiccupping. Not being able to catch a breath.

Suddenly a voice makes you jump and you turn to face its owner while shaking. Tears staining your red, blotchy face.

“Y/N?” John whispers quietly while emerging from the trees.

You lock eyes with him and try to wipe at your face. You know you look a mess.

“I…..I can’t…..it won’t……” you try to speak as you hiccup between sobbing and gasping for breath. You don’t even know what you’re trying to say, you just know that nothing’s coming out. You can feel your chest beginning to hurt from lack of oxygen and how much your nose is running, mixing with your tears.

John approaches you like one would a wild animal. He puts his palms up in front of him and slowly makes his way over to you, “Okay Y/N. I’m gonna need ya ta try ‘nd breathe.”

If you could roll your eyes right now, you would. But instead all you can do is wheeze and grasp at your chest. John seems to be able to read your look however and stops walking when he’s in front of you.

“Sorry, kinda dumb thin’ ta say right?” he quietly scoffs, “I’m gonna take yer hand okay?” he continues and slowly reaches for your shaky hand.

His warm, calloused hand gently takes one of yours off of your chest but he then hesitates before moving again, “If yer not….comfortable or summit….just squeeze ma hand okay?” John doesn’t wait for you to nod or anything, knowing you’re too deep into the panic attack to respond. He just hopes his words made their way past your stuttering cries.

Ever so slowly he raises your palm to his chest, flinching ever so slightly when he places it over his heart. He then gently takes your other hand, which has been scratching marks into your chest like you’re trying to claw the breath from your own body. With that hand he places your palm firmly against your own heart.

“Just….feel ma heart….feel the beats….try’ta focus on it.” John stutters awkwardly. You feel how his hands are kind of clammy, you can tell he's nervous. “Just try’ta match yer breathin’ ta mine.”

You focus on John, focus on his heart beat under your palm. The sound of his breathing and the feel of the soft hair on his chest. You were so close like this, just like when you cleaning up his face. Just like last time he closed his eyes and seemed to relish the warmth of you. When you involuntarily twitch because of your hiccups, you accidently dig your nails gently into John’s chest. His eyes snap open and his mouth drops into a silent gasp.

You go to pull your hand back as an apology but before you can, John grips your hand again and pushes it down a bit harder where it hovers on his chest. He nods and takes a deep breath, signalling for you to try and do the same.

Slowly, slowly, your breathing evens out and even though you’re still crying, you’re no longer struggling to breathe. You have no idea how long you’ve both been stood like this but the only sounds you hear are the birds and the wind in the trees.

“Yer okay.” John said quietly, “Yer okay.”

Without thinking you throw your arms around John’s neck and bury your face into his shoulder. You smell the tobacco of his cigarettes and the wood of the campfire.

For a moment John is stunned. His hands are squished between your bodies where he was holding them before and he shivers due to the contact. He can’t remember the last time he was held like this and for it to happen so suddenly…. it’s thrown him off. After a few more seconds of you crying into his shoulder, he extracts his arms from between you both and wraps them around your waist. He rubs soothing circles onto your back until your tears finally dry and you pull back, keeping your hands on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry John…I…don’t know what came over me.” You half laugh, fully retracting your arms. John does the same and you hug your arms around yourself. “Tha…thank you.” you stutter.

John clears his throat and takes a decent step back before answering, putting his hands on his hips to stop himself from reaching for you again.

“S’fine…..you okay?” he asks.

You sniff and rub your nose with your sleeve. You’re beyond caring about how you must look!

“Yeah. It kind of just….erupted” you laugh while dabbing at your face.

“Kinda happens that way don’t it.” John smiles kindly, “I saw ya running outta camp pretty quickly so figured I’d check here fer ya.”

You stop rubbing your eyes and look at him with a soft smile on your lips.

“You came out here to check on me?” you ask gently and instantly John’s face reddens.

John coughs again before answering, “I weren’t like, watchin’ you or nothin’….ya know I just saw you….umm……like I weren’t out here….stalkin’ ya” he laughs and you join him.

“I didn’t think you were John” you smile broadly, “It was really kind of you to….help me.”

After a few seconds of comfortable silence, you have a thought, “Hey, how did you know how to….do that? You know, the heartbeat thing.”

John laughs humourlessly and stretches his hands out in front of him before making his way over to the large shaded tree which seems to be his favourite. However instead of sitting against it, he sits next to it and thumps the floor encouraging you to take a seat. You smile and stroll over to him, taking the place against the tree.

“Funny story really” he begins, “When I ferst join’d the gang, I used’ta have a lotta…nightmares. Like real bad ones. ‘N Arthur used ta do the same thing fer me, ta calm me down so he could sleep.”

You pause before answering.

“John….that’s not a very funny story!” you laugh and John’s face falls into an expression of acknowledgment.

“Yeah, I uh, guess it’s not.” He laughs with you until your sides hurt.

After you manage to calm down, again, you close your eyes and lean your head back against the tree trunk behind you.

“Can I ask what happened? You were jus’ talkin’ ta Sadie and then you were runnin’.” John asks while bringing his knees up for his arms to rest on.

You open your eyes again but keep looking forward towards the sunny sky, “We were talking about my father. Just a nice memory. I guess it was just a matter of time before I exploded.”

John just nods and finds himself watching your face for a split second too long to be considered polite. He notices how despite your swollen eye lids and blotchy complexion from the crying, your eyes themselves still seem stuck in your happy memory. Twinkling with the happiness you once had.

Slowly you meet his gaze and before John can look away, you reach out to gently touch his arm, making him keep eye contact.

“You know…..my pa….he wasn’t actually…..my father. I mean by blood.” You say once you manage to find the words. You pull your hand back but keep your eyes on John’s face. You can tell he’s listening intently. Despite how much Abigail shouts about how he doesn’t pay any attention, you know he hears more than they all think.

“My mother was….I guess, seduced? By a man.” You continue, “And like it happens, he didn’t stick around once she found out she was pregnant with me.”

“So when did she meet yer…..pa?” John questions.

“When I was 6. My mama’s always been a strong-willed woman. Not unlike Abigail in a way” you admit begrudgingly, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice, “Her family wouldn’t take her back once they knew she was having me….but the people she worked for luckily kept her on. She tended to their ranch and went hunting with the other men around.”

“A female ranch-hand huh?” John laughs but you know he means it as a compliment.

It makes you smile.

“Yep. Like I said, strong-willed.” You answer, pausing to have a laugh with John before continuing, “I grew up on that ranch….it was wonderful. From what I remember.”

“I cn imagin’ growin’ up on a ranch would be” John smiles. He always loved working with horses and for a short time before the gang grew, that was something him and Arthur did to make some extra money. He wasn’t a fan of being fixed in one place but for a kid he had no doubt how fun it probably was.

“Then one day, the owners agreed to meet with some city folk who wanted to purchase a ready to go ranch. They wanted the quiet life and all that. Blah blah.” You scoff. “They brought a friend of theirs with them…..someone who wasn’t a stranger to cattle, horses and life on a farm.”

“Yer pa?” John smiles broadly and it makes you happy that he seems so invested in your story.

“Yep. My mama said she was ruthless with him.” You giggle, “Never one to go easy…..she said city folk had no business being ranchers but my pa gave as good as he got. See he’d worked on a farm for a while before moving to the city and he considered himself more than capable. So, my mama challenged him to a race on their best horses.”

“I’m guessing she won?” John asks rhetorically and you nod.

“She won. And he asked her to dinner. Before she could decline, I came back from town with the owners wife and gave my mama a shiny rock I’d found.”

“A rock” John chuckles while frowning and you gently smacked his uninjured leg.

“Hey! That was a really good rock!” you hiss, “Anyway. I gave her the rock and she introduced me…..mama says he was hooked straight away. Performed a crappy magic trick with a coin and insisted I came along to dinner. A picnic in the park……mama said as soon as she saw me on his shoulders, she was in love.”

You stop and break eye contact with John while you take a moment to truly remember the feeling of being on your father’s shoulders. You felt like nothing would ever, could ever, harm you. You’d give anything to feel that invincible again.

“Anyway….point I’m trying to make John….is that Jake Adler wasn’t my blood father…..but he was my pa. And I couldn’t have loved him more.” You finish welling up again and letting one stray tear fall.

You can see that John still doesn’t quite understand your point. You reach for his arm again and when you touch bare skin, his eyes fall to your fingers. Again, he shivers.

“Jack may not be yours by blood….but if you want….” You find yourself struggling around the words you feel like you should say but that part of you doesn’t want to utter, “…..if you want Abigail. It doesn’t have to matter.”

John looks at you for a few seconds before giving you a small smile and touching his hand gently to yours. For a moment you both look at your hands and how the rough pad of his thumb grazes back and forth over one of your knuckles.

“Thats’a nice story Y/N. Real nice….but I ain’t a father and….I ain’t a partner.” John says without looking up at you. Your eyes flick to his face and you feel yourself run cold. You don’t know why but you feel this intense disappointment wash over you. Not because he doesn’t want to be a father to Jack, but that he seems intent on not being with anyone seriously.

You can’t understand why you feel so sick.

You nod your head and move your hand away from his arm and fake the best smile you can when his head snaps up quickly, “That’s….that’s fine as well John. You don’t have to…”

You’re quickly interrupted by John, who’s face is pulled into a grimace of realisation, “To Abigail I mean!” He rushes out so quickly that he almost shouts it. Making you jump.

John clears his throat and scratches at the back of his head before scoffing, “Sorry…I just…I mean I don’t know if I ever want kids…but ya know I…do like women…I mean…I like havin’ women. Not women, women…..a woman….God damn.” John sighs loudly and puts his face in his hands while internally berating himself.

You can’t help but burst out laughing.

John slowly brings his head up from his hands and looks at you with intense mock offence, “Are ya laughin’ at me miss?”

You can’t help it, you snort.

“Oh my God” you groan while burying your own face in your hands. John explodes into laughter and you look up.

After locking eyes with the man next to you, you begin to laugh just as loudly.

After a few moments, you both quieten down and you hold your chest gasping for breath while John holds one of his scabs that’s been tugging too much.

“What I mean is, I don’t think I wanna be with Abigail. Not afta this…I mean we weren’t even that serious before Jack. Then I went away fer a year…”

“Went away?” you interrupt and he shakes his head.

“Not jail or nothin’….but I’ll tell you that story anotha time. Or ask Arthur he’d just LOVE to fill you in.” John hisses angrily. “But what I mean is. There ain’t nothin’…romantic…there anymore. Ya know?”

You can’t help the smile that breaches your face.

“I, uh, yeah I guess I understand what you’re saying.” You say nodding. You look up at the sky and see that time really has moved on since you got here.

“Look I best get back to my mom. I kind of just ran off there” you laugh. “Thank you so much John. It means more than you know that you came to find me.”

John doesn’t answer but the slight tip of his head and small smile says everything you need to know. He gets up and helps you stand by holding out his hand for you to take. Once you’re up John holds onto your hand just a little bit longer before letting go….

“Anytime.” He says in that gruff voice and you can’t help but wonder what that voice would be like whispering in your ear. Maybe late at night. When no one can see you.

You hold your arms out awkwardly in front of you just a little bit and ask quietly, “Can I?”

It takes a second for John to register what you’re asking but as soon as he does, he’s bringing you into his arms for another hug. Before he knows it, he’s taking in a long, deep breath. Filling his senses with the smell of you and only you.

He can’t help but think to himself, has hugging always been this nice?

Has he actually ever had a hug? Yeah, he must have done. Hosea, yeah Hosea used to hug him quite a bit. And he got a few after returning to camp from his year away.

But this? This feeling is something else entirely.

You wind your arms around Johns neck and this time place your face there as well. You feel him physically shudder and for a moment you worry that you’ve actually made him uncomfortable, like maybe he was just being polite by indulging you. But before you can make any move to pull away, his arms tighten around your back.

You’re shorter than John so you’re on your tiptoes but he’s able to keep you steady. You whisper another thank you into his neck and you swear you feel his hands clench into your back where they rest.

You reluctantly pull back and come face to face with John, who’s so damn close.

Panic suddenly engulfs you a little bit and you take a step back. Thankfully John doesn’t seem to notice your moment of worry.

“See you soon then I guess…” you laugh nervously and fiddle with your clothes.

“Um yeah, I uh, like to get out here around noon most days so if yer not out or….” John says quietly, gesturing around the area.

“Yeah I uh, I’m sometimes free around then…” you mention but then you suddenly get embarrassed that maybe you’ve misread his intent, “Oh or I mean I could come later on or earlier if….you like your time or….”

“No! No…I umm” John clears his throat yet again, like he’s trying to bring the right words to the surface, “It’s nice ta have company.”

You hold in your big smile by biting your lip.

“Okay then. Umm, so see ya John.” You say walking deep into the trees before allowing your grin to take over your features.

John turns to look over at the vast openness before him. He sighs but can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of his still healing lips.

“Christ.” he whispers before making his own way back to camp.

John wanders into camp and spots you sitting once again with your mother. You look happy again and this makes him smile. Genuinely smile.

“Marston!” Arthur squawks at him as he approaches.

“Arthur” John answers through clenched teeth.

Arthur stops in front of him with his thumbs in the loops of his belt. Oozing cockiness that’d rival Micah’s, “Dutch wants you on guard duty t’night. Says it’s high-time you start pullin’ yer weight around here.” 

“Pullin’ my….? You all know I’s nearly eaten not too long ago right?” John asks angrily. His voice is so quiet as to not alert the others around him that it comes out as a sort of snide hiss.

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” Arthur says holding his hands up and backing away, “Or anyone fer tha’ matter. Don’t need another invalid round here.”

John bites his tongue and storms over to his tent. He needs a beer and a sleep before his shift. However after lifting the heavy canvas and letting it drop closed behind him, he realises that sleep may not be on the cards for him…..

“Hey John” Abigail drawls from his bed. Almost entirely naked. 

Once again he lets out in a whisper, “Christ.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the premise of this story, Jack is a little bit younger. I just can’t hurt that boy’s feelings!
> 
> Pairing: John Marston x female reader
> 
> Warnings: Sexual themes.
> 
> Tumblr: emily-strange

“Abi. Whatta you doin’?” John asks while making sure the canvas is secure behind him. Abigail has one leg bent and uncovered from the blanket on the cot, showing that she’s only wearing her chemise and small cloth of underwear. She has her arms placed behind her making her breasts push out enticingly.

“Well, Jack’s off readin’ with Hosea…I thought maybe we could have some grown-up time.” She smirks while moving off of the cot and towards a stunned John. She pushes the jacket off of his shoulders and breaths in his sent from the crook of his neck, smirking when he shivers.

John moves to gently push Abigail back but before he can, she moves on her own.

“Why d’you smell different?” Abigail asks and John genuinely doesn’t know what she means, so he shakes his head and moves past her to sit on the edge of the cot.

“Abi you can’t be here. I got guard duty; I need ta sleep.” John rubs his hands over his face, missing the gigantic eye roll Abigail gives him. She saunters over to him and pushes oh his shoulders lightly, making him look up at her. Before he can protest, she rubs at his tense, tired shoulders.

“Well, then let me make sure you get a good sleep.” Abigail whispers, kneading into the knots to loosen them. John groans and closes his eyes causing her to smile, “There we go.”

For a few moments they stay like this. Abigail standing between John’s legs, working on his tired muscles. She can sense him relaxing and places a delicate kiss on his non-scarred cheek, taking notice of the way his throat bobs as he swallows nervously. She bites her bottom lip and swipes her tongue against his Adams apple before kissing across his neck, the way she knows he likes.

John feels like he can’t breathe. Its been a long while since he’s been touched this way and his body reacts quickly. As Abigail trails her fingers down his neck to his chest, he feels his heart thudding away. Before Abigail can pop the third button of his shirt, he grabs her hands and clears his throat.

“Whatta you doin’ Abigail?” he whispers and with her crouching they’re just about eye level, “You…you’ve not so much had a kind word ta say since I’ve been back. Why now?”

Abigail physically bites at her tongue from annoyance but doesn’t let that seep into her voice as she replies, “Let’s not talk about that now John…..jus’….jus’ let me make you feel good.” And before John manages to say another word, Abigail gently collides her lips with his.

John’s hands clutch at her waist and she smiles into the kiss as he whimpers. Audibly whimpers. He closes his eyes and allows himself to bask in the tenderness. She’s being so gentle, she’s not usually so gentle. Abigail licks her tongue into John’s mouth and plants both bare knees on the cot either side of him, making his hands slip round to land on her lower back.

“I want you John. I always wanted you.” Abigail whispers against his lips and can’t help the knowing smile that graces her face when his eyes remain closed and his hands grip that bit harder against her, “You know what we have.”

John’s harder than he’s been in months and Abigail’s sweet words while she straddles him aren’t helping the matter. He knows, deep, deep down that she’s doing this for a reason. That she didn’t just wake up this morning and decide she suddenly just had to have John Marston. He knows this is about Jack or the gang or needing him on side for something but in the moment, he can’t find the strength to care.

“Do you want me John?” Abigail asks in that hushed tone women use when they’re playing the part, “Do you need me like I need you?” And when she pushes her hand up into his hair, scraping her nails against his scalp, he’s done for.

John grabs her backside and grinds his crotch up into hers, causing her to gasp. The feeling sends electricity through his body and he does it again even harder.

“Yes John.” Abigail moans as the feeling jolts through her as well. She brings his lips back to hers in a heated, ferocious kiss. One that causes them both to moan into the others mouth. Abigail rips at his shirt, sending buttons flying all over the tent and runs her soft palms down his chest. The feeling of her tender embrace and her skin on his is enough to make John’s eyes roll back and his hard cock pulse against her core.

Abigail pulls her lips away from John’s and runs her nose down his neck, breathing deeply before swirling her tongue around his pulse point. She nips her way up and down his throat while pushing down onto his erection. She sighs into his ear and John trembles at the warm feeling of her breath against him.

John moans quietly and feels the tightness in his trousers almost too much to bear. He shifts Abigail back a bit with the intent of opening his fly and Abigail’s eyes light up. As he works on the buttons, she brings his chapped lips back to hers while smiling and says, “See John, we could be happy.”

Abigail’s words cause John to pause and gently push her away from his face. He pants heavily and pushes the voice telling him to continue to the back of his mind. Her look of genuine surprise makes his heart clench but he shakes his head and pushes so Abigail is able to stand back up.

He picks up the skirt she discarded and hands it to her without meeting her eyes, “I really need ta sleep Abi. I think….I think ya should leave. ‘M sorry.”

Abigail breathes heavily through her nose and snatches the skirt from his hand. While she puts it on, she shakes her head and watches as he changes shirts.

“Ya know John. You really can be so stupid.” She states firmly and John just nods while buttoning up the new shirt, “You could have everythin’ a fella wants. The love of’a woman and a beautiful son. Well, you got the son so you best start payin’ attention ta the first part.”

John clutches at his cot with tense hands and bows his head, staying silent and avoiding her furious gaze.

Abigail fixes her clothes and eyes John’s discarded shirt on the floor. She snatches it up and moves to leave the tent before running her hand through her tousled hair. She takes a second to breathe before moving back to John and pushing the hair from his forehead; leaving a small, quick kiss in the middle.

When she leaves, John lies back on his cot and does up his trousers. He stares at the ceiling of the tent for a few seconds before feeling his eyes beginning to wet. He throws one arm over his eyes, shielding them from the light and places his free hand on his stomach. John clenches his fist, digging his nails into the palm of his hand as he quietly sniffs.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

You sit back with the other ladies, carrying on with the remaining washing when you see Abigail practically skipping towards you. “Ladies” she greets brightly and everyone, including you, respond with a smile. Even if yours is a tad strained.

“Oh y/n” Abigail sings, “Can I add this to ya pile?”

Abigail hands you a shirt and you notice that most of the buttons are broken off. You weren’t planning on asking why but Abigail answers the question anyway, “It’s John’s. I’ll sew it back up afta it’s clean. He was uh….in’a bit of a hurry.”

Abigail winks at Mary-Beth, who giggles, then walks away to greet Jack who’s still sitting with Hosea.

You feel the cold shiver rising from your toes all the way to the top of your head. You place the shirt onto the pile and fight the feeling of tears that threaten to gather in your eyes. You know what she’s doing. You aren’t stupid. You just try to remember John’s your friend and nothing more. There’s no reason to get upset.

Unbeknownst to you, Tilly and Mary-Beth exchange a quick look of worry as Tilly smoothly moves the shirt from your pile to hers.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

In the early hours you find yourself unable to sleep, so you go to the scout fire. The main campfire always has people sleeping around it and you just wanted to be alone.

After you’d finished the washing earlier you had an early dinner from your own supplies and went to bed. While in town last week you’d bought a tent, which you sometimes shared with your mother, even though it was a small fit. Tonight though she was with the other women, sensing you needed your space.

So currently you’re sat at the scout fire drinking whiskey from a bottle you also bought with your own money. Something about using your own stash made you feel less like one of the gang, which made it easier to convince yourself that this was only temporary. So you shouldn’t bother getting attached.

Unfortunately, because you’d gone to bed early, you weren’t aware of who was on guard duty until Bill arrived to take over.

“Hey uh….” Bill stutters.

“Y/n, Bill. My names y/n.” you respond to him when he comes up short. You take a swig from your bottle and don’t even bother to look at him.

“I know! You uh, seen John?” he questions and that does make you look at him.

“No. Why?” you answer but before he can respond, John shows up from the trees. Bill doesn’t say anything but goes to greet him and take the rifle. He wanders off to his post and John spots you at the fire. You avert your eyes from his but this doesn’t seem to deter him.

He comes to sit across from you at the little fire.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None I don't think!

John smiles at you from his place at the fire and you can’t help but give him a small one back. He hangs his head low and groans tiredly while rubbing the back of his neck. When he looks back up you dart your eyes away and take a long gulp of whiskey.

“Whatcha doin’ up?” he asks when you wipe drops of drink from your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Cundnt sleep.” You say with a slight slur causing John to chuckle quietly.

John gets up and takes the seat diagonally next to you. He puts a finger under your chin and tilts your face to look at him, “You drunk miss?” he smiles.

Before you allow yourself to revel in his close proximity, the rational side of your brain kicks in and has you attempting to stand way too quickly causing you to sway. John jumps up and catches you around the waist before you fall. The warmth of his body, the fire and the whiskey you’ve consumed make it impossible for you to think straight.

John takes the bottle from you, which is almost empty, putting it on the ground. He then gathers you up into his arms bridal style with a quiet, “There we go” and begins to carry you over to your tent. While he’s walking with you, you take a moment to really look over his features. The scars do nothing to change your mind about how attractive he is, after all you didn’t know him without them.

You find yourself wanting to reach out and run your fingers over the one on his lip but manage to keep your hands safely around his neck where they’ll stay out of trouble. Ask he walks, you notice he shakes a little. Like he’s struggling to hold up your weight. However, before you can really dwell on it, he’s placing you down gently on your bedroll.

“There we go now.” He whispers and straightens back up.

John stands looking at you for a few seconds like he’s waiting for something. Maybe he’s waiting for you to say something? What should you say? After a few more seconds John clears his throat and just nods his head muttering, “Night y/n.”

As he’s leaving the small tent you find your lips moving before your brain can register that it’s happening. He stops and turns to you while you say in a small (and drunkenly) voice, “By tha way John, Abigail has yer brok’n shirt now.”

You think you see John open his mouth but you turn over on your bedroll before he can say anything to you. You know you’re about to cry and you’d rather he not see, or hear, it. John takes the hint and leaves quietly, closing your tent the best he can from the other side.

As you lie on your bed roll, listening to the sounds of snoring from around the camp, you let a few tears fall from your eyes. After a few minutes you rub them away roughly and tell yourself to stop being so silly….maybe if you say it enough it’ll stick.

…………………………………………………………….

You wake up with a throbbing head and a dry mouth.

It takes a moment but your memory slowly returns and you remember what you said to John before he left your tent last night. You just have to hope it came out better than you remember. In your mind you shouted it at him before crying loudly but you’re pretty sure that wouldn’t of been the case….you’d probably have had your mother bursting in on you for comfort. So you’re pretty sure you just whispered it. Thankfully. Maybe he didn’t hear you?

You rub your eyes and crawl out of your tent. Getting up isn’t fun as your vision blurs but once you manage to settle your eyes you can see that it’s still very early. Hardly anyone is up and those who are aren’t taking any notice of you as you skulk over to the coffee pot that’s already brewing. After pouring a large cup you also collect a glass of water before taking a seat at the camp table.

It was a few minutes of sipping one and then the other before Hosea joins you at the table with his own coffee and a newspaper.

“Good morning y/n.” he greets happily and smirks when you give a half-hearted “Morning” back.

“Fun night or just a rough morning?” Hosea asks motioning to your tangled mess of hair and you can’t help but laugh a little.

“The latter” you whisper before chugging down the rest of your water. Hosea chuckles quietly and puts his newspaper down on the table, leaning forward.

“So was wonderin’ if you fancied runnin’ a little job with me and Arthur today?” he asks and you almost choke on your coffee. He pats your back gently as you regain your composure.

“Me?” you ask after you take a deep breath, “A job? What kind of job?”

Hosea adjusts his posture, clearly a bit uncomfortable with the conversation.

“Me and Arthur are workin’ over these fella’s, brothers, at a ranch close by here. They were braggin’ about how they’d just made some big sale sellin’ cows that weren’t producing any milk to some down on their luck farmers. Real lowlifes, n’d that’s comin’ from us.” Hosea explains with a chuckle and you laugh along. You like Hosea. You’ve not had many interactions with him but he always seems to have a level head and you appreciate that. He also has a very gentle voice, something you’re very thankful for at the moment, “So me and Arthur wanna… relieve them of said sale money.”

“Okay. So why’d you need me?” you ask, honestly at a loss as to how you can help.

“Well….these men apparently have quite a thing for the ladies. Young ladies like yourself.” Hosea continues and you scoff, cutting him off.

“So I’m bait? You want to use me as bait?” you snap and move to stand up, “No thanks Hosea.”

Before you can stand Hosea gently takes your arm and motions for you to sit down. Which you do begrudgingly.

“Now we wanted to take one of the other women but Dutch think’s it’d go smoother with you. According to him….” Hosea pauses and shakes his head “you have that innocence that can’t be faked.”

Glancing over to Dutch’s tent you see him standing with a cigar listening to his awful classical music.

“So….really this is Dutch telling….not you asking?” you whisper to Hosea without moving your gaze from Dutch.

“Basically” Hosea nods, “Nothin’s gonna happen….we just need you to be a little distraction. We aren’t wantin’ to make a lot of noise.”

You nod and give Hosea a small smile, “Okay….as long as it’ll be safe. Well, as safe as can be. We should go soon though, before my mom wakes up. She won’t be happy.”

.…………………………………………………………….

Not long after your chat with Hosea, you’re riding up front in a cart with him while Arthur rides his horse up front. You’re meeting at the ranch under the cover of buying some horses and distracting one or both of the brothers while Hosea and Arthur search for the money.

“You’re awful quiet Miss Adler” Hosea says without breaking his concentration from the winding roads, “Please try not ta worry. We’d never let anything happen.”

You fiddle with the dress you’re wearing and pull up the top part a bit. The dress is too tight and not tight enough in all the wrong places.

Truth is though, you aren’t really worried at all. You’ve dealt with your fair share of leering men and you know how to handle a gun. Just like the one you’ve strapped to your thigh.

What you can’t stop thinking about is yesterday and how awful you felt after Abigail gave you that shirt. But why feel so bad when John’s just your friend? Is he even that? You look to Arthur and remember your failed attempt at discussing John with him and an idea comes to mind.

“Oh I know….don’t worry I’m okay.” You smile at the older man and he seems grateful for your reassurance, “There is something you can do for me though. If I can be so bold as to ask.”

Hosea laughs heartily and Arthur turns to face the cart before shaking his head and continuing on.

“Okay Miss, what can I do for you?” he asks and you decide to just level with him.

“Look I know I’m being nosey okay, I know,” you laugh, “but I kind of sensed some tension between John and Arthur.”

Hosea laughs again, “Oh you sensed that did ya?”

“I asked Arthur the other week about Jack and he just…..well he got shitty…..so sue me I’m curious.” You shrug while looking at Arthur’s back.

“Hmm okay. And this has nothin’ to do with you getting friendly with John?” Hosea asks and you snap you head to the side to look at him. Hosea holds his hand up to stop you from speaking, “And when I say friendly, I’m not implying anything. I just mean friendly.”

You relax back into your seat and shrug again, trying to act nonchalant but knowing your little display just now probably ruined that. “He just seems so…..lonely.” you say quietly, almost as if to yourself.

After a couple of moments silence Hosea nods and sighs.

“He is that…..okay, I’ll tell you the tall tale. But on the way back, we’re here.” He replies gesturing to the ranch just up ahead.

After entering the ranch, Arthur helps you down from the wagon and Hosea goes into full on salesman mode. The brothers greet you and instantly you feel their eyes on you. They aren’t too bad on the eyes themselves but the way the oldest brother, Wyatt, looks at you is an instant turn off.

“Now I hope you don’t mind but I brought my niece Elizabeth with me.” Hosea says turning to hold his hand out to you. You step forward as Arthur stands at the wagon with his arms crossed. Ever the enforcer.

“I’ve always loved horses.” You say, faking shyness.

The younger brother, William, steps forward. He’s at least ten years older than you with sandy blonde hair. You genuinely blush when he bends his arm and offers it to you, “Well isn’t that nice” he drawls, “I think we can show the lady some pretty horses.”

You smile and take his arm, “Thank you sir, that’d be lovely.”

Hosea, Arthur and Wyatt all follow you into the barn which houses many, many lovely looking horses. You genuinely smile as you see them all lined up in their stalls.

“Now which one would you like to see little lady?” Wyatt breathes into your ear from behind, breaking the trance you’re in. You glance at Arthur who gestures to the one at the far end of the barn.

“That one looks wonderful” you say dropping William’s arm and practically skipping over to the beauty in the furthest stall. William chuckles and you know he’s watching you before following after.

When you reach the stall, you hear Arthur ask Wyatt to go through prices with him outside.

You reach up and run your hand through the horse’s mane and it almost bows a little to give you more access. You’re relieved to see that the horses look well taken care of.

You jump a little when you feel a hand on your waist as William sidles up next to you, “This one here’s a….”

“Blue Roan” you interrupt and he whistles loudly, “Well aren’t you a clever thing!”

You internally cringe at his words but push the feeling aside, it does sound like he’s trying to be kind. Men always seem to talk to you the same way….well apart from….

You shake away your thoughts of John and keep running your hand through the horse’s mane and down his nose. You’re not sure how much time has passed before you say quietly, “My pa loved horses.”

Suddenly Hosea begins to cough and you rush over to him as he crouches down and winks at you.

You smile and say quite loudly, “Uncle are you alright? Is it your chest?” You turn to William and say in your best innocent voice, “He gets a terrible cough when his throats dry. Would it be okay if he went to get some water?”

William sighs and nods, “Yer we’ll take ‘em next door to the house.”

You look at Hosea who’s still ‘coughing’ and he gestures to William with his head.

You spin round and put your hands on William’s chest gently, feigning disappointment, “Oh please stay and show me the others. He’ll just grab a glass and run on back here…..I really hoped you could tell me about the horses.”

William’s chest practically inflates with ego and he leans in close to you, “Well I think that’s a much better idea…” he then turns his attention to Hosea and barks at him where he can get a drink before turning back to you, “….now why don’t we see if we can’t get better acquainted. With the horses of course.”

You swallow down your apprehension and smile, watching as Hosea leaves via a different exit than the one Arthur is currently at with Wyatt.

“I’ll be quick” Hosea says, mostly to you, before disappearing and leaving you alone with William. You move a bit further back from him, suddenly feeling very much like prey. William follows you slowly as you turn to go to the other side of the barn.

“Why don’t we let you inta one of those stalls to get a better look?” William suggests and goes to open the Blue Roan’s door. William doesn’t seem like an overly handsy type but you don’t want to risk it being that close.

“Oh I don’t know. I just can’t decide which one I like the most!” You say keeping your voice light as you move down the row of stalls, gently running your hand against the doors. William keeps a distance, almost like he’s sussing you out. You try not to meet his eye as you turn to survey the large barn.

“Hmm, now that one’s got a lovely coat….but that one’s just so little. It’s adorable!” you sing, pretending to debate with yourself. You see William coming closer but still maintaining a respectable distance. You quickly glance through a gap in the barn and see Arthur is deep discussion with Wyatt. But he isn’t far. He’s right there in case….

A cough snaps you out of your thoughts.

“I think you’re pretty adorable Miss Elizabeth” William says rubbing the back of his head, almost bashfully. For a moment you feel bad for what you’re doing. Leading him on.

You smile and tuck your hair behind your ear, “Oh William how sweet of you.”

When William stops in front of you, you gasp loudly (way too loudly), “THAT ONE!” and run to the other side of the barn again. Stopping in front of a pretty little Morgan. You know how erratic you must seem but you have no idea what to do if he actually manages to get his hands on you. He may be more of a gentleman than you’re thinking of him but you don’t want to risk it.

“This little thing?” William laughs and it almost makes you annoyed, “I suppose he’d be a good size for you….no good for what ya Uncle needs though. Where is your….” But before he finishes his thought, you rush forward and grab his clammy hand, pulling him towards the stall.

“Oh please William? He’s just so sweet….um, reminds me of you a bit.” You say throwing in a compliment for good measure, causing him to laugh.

“A horse? Is that a good thing?” he chuckles and you actually blush at how silly you’d been by saying that.

“Umm yeah that was a bit of a silly thing to say” you laugh, “But it is a compliment. I do think he’s lovely…I’d really like to get a closer look.”

William approaches the stall and opens it, leading the horse out, “Well in that case, compliment accepted.”

You run your hands down the horses back and circle him.

“He’s a Liver Chestnut?” you ask William, who’s following after you in the circle you’re making.

“He is. Needs a bit of a hair cut but boys in good condition.” He replies and you shake your head, “Oh no I like his wild hair.”

William chuckles.

“How much?” you ask and William shrugs.

“I’d have to ask Wyatt, he’s the money man….I could probably do you a deal….” He says, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze. While you’d been distracted by the Morgan, William had managed to come close in front of you.

“Umm, what kind of deal?” you ask expecting the worst.

“A chance to see you again maybe?” he asks and you’re taken aback by the nervous tone in his voice.

“Oh umm” you stumble over your words but thankfully before you can answer, Hosea comes barging back into the barn. Startling you both.

“Sorry sorry sorry. I found myself gettin’ a little lightheaded back there but good as new now!” Hosea sings loudly. Arthur must have heard this because seconds later, him and Wyatt come back in laughing and jesting about something.

“Uncle!” you say and take your hand from William’s gentle hold, “William was showing me this little beauty.”

Hosea looks at you for a moment and watches as you stroke the horse’s nose, laughing as it nuzzles your hand.

“Ohh he is a beauty my dear. How much?” Hosea asks, surprising you.

“$50” Wyatt says but straight away William jumps in by saying “$35”, making everyone’s attention snap to him. He leans down a bit and whispers in your ear, “If I get to see you again?”

You look at the Morgan and his beautiful big eyes. His crazy mane and stunning coat. You hear Arthur clear his throat and you know he’s about to say something but you quickly jump in.

“$35 it is.” You say in a gentle voice, smiling at William who’s grin beams wildly.

Everyone’s quiet for a few seconds before Hosea claps his hands loudly, “Okay! Should we make a deal then!?”

On the way back to camp, Arthur rides on ahead while leading your little Morgan. You once again ride up front in the wagon with Hosea who is smiling proudly.

“Well done my girl! A job very well done!” he enthuses and it’s infectious. You smile, also quite proud of yourself. “I’m sorry I took so long.” He mentions quickly.

“Oh it’s okay, he wasn’t that bad. I thought he’d try a bit harder to get handsy but he actually didn’t really try at all.” You say, thinking over the events at the ranch. William was actually very nice. He had no assurance that he’d see you again, other than you “uncles” promise of coming to buy some horses, but he’d given you the horse on your word.

That thought makes you feel like blushing and crying all at the same time.

“SO I believe I owe you a story!” Hosea says and for a moment you’re confused. He must sense it because he quickly adds, “About John…”

“Oh! Yes. Yeah. Of course, I’m sorry.” You laugh, “I was just thinking on what to call the horse.” You lie, shaking your head, “Please….tell me about John.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who is still interested in this story! 
> 
> Warnings: None!

You see Hosea glance at you but you don’t make eye contact with him, you just play with the skirt of your dress and try to seem less frazzled than you actually feel. He’d caught you off guard and you know he noticed it.

Hosea whistles and calls for Arthur to loop around and come back to the wagon, which he does with the greatest of ease. Even with your new little horse in tow. When he reaches the front of the wagon, Hosea pulls on the horses to stop the wagon.

“It’sa nice day. Miss Adler ‘nd I are gonna take the scenic route back ta camp. You good?” Hosea asks Arthur even though you all know it isn’t a question. Arthur looks at you and then scoffs a little bit, shaking his head while grumbling something like, “Alright” under his breath. He really can be so grumpy.

Hosea takes out the large stack of bills from his breast pocket and dolls it out amongst the three of you. He hands two piles to Arthur for camp and himself, then hands a pile to you.

You take the stack and look through bills, “Wow…” you say quietly to yourself. Trying to forget the people, or person, that the money came from. You then turn to Hosea and say appreciatively, “…..minus the amount for the horse?”

Hosea chuckles and stuffs his pile back into his pocket, “Now, I’m making an….executive decision here and sayin’ that boys an investment fer the camp. So, camp’ll pay….You two happy with that!?”

Hosea looks at Arthur who holds up his hands up in surrender before putting his money away. You open your mouth to protest but Arthur beats you to it saying, “I’d just agree if I were you Miss. He’s likea dog with a bone when he gets an idea into him.”

“Okay…” you say to Hosea, your smile beaming, “Thank you Mr Matthews.” You lean across the seat and give Hosea a small kiss on his cheek.

“Best not be doin’ that either, think his heart’ll give out!” Arthur laughs heartily and Hosea reaches for his gun. “Think that’s ma queue!” Arthur says before manoeuvring the horse’s round again.

“Can you please tell my mom that I’m fine….oh and ask Kieran to check over my new baby?” You ask Arthur who shakes his head and replies, “That best not be his new name.”

“Well….” You pretend to think to yourself, “….he is a Morgan. Maybe I’ll call him Arthur.”

Hosea bursts out a large laugh and Arthur grumbles to himself, “Never heard that one before.”

You smile at Arthur who huffs lightly and tips his hat. He gently kicks the horses into a gallop and you smile watching your new horse trot away, knowing he’s safe with Arthur. He’s grumpy but he loves those horses. You’ve seen him sneak your boy a treat or two already.

“Shall we?” Hosea asks readying the reins and you nod happily singing, “We shall!”

Hosea gets the wagon going again and you ride in comfortable silence for around 15 minutes. He stops at a lovely grassy bank next to a large lake and you eagerly jump down, not waiting for Hosea to help you. While Hosea secures the horses, you walk to the waters edge and squint as the sun glares off of the water.

“Me and Bessie stopped at this lake many a time on the way back from town.” He says looking out into the water. You can tell whoever she was meant a great deal to him.

“Bessie was my wife” Hosea confirms and moves to sit on a large overturned log; groaning a bit as he sits, “We lost her a while back now. Still feels like yesterday.”

You take a seat next to him and think about your father.

“Does it ever get better?” you ask Hosea in a small voice, “Sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe it hurts so much.”

Hosea sighs and you know he’s choosing his words carefully.

“It doesn’t always get...better..” he says, stopping briefly, “but it does get easier to carry.”

You nod, mostly to yourself and Hosea bumps your arms with his. Bringing you back to the present.

“Now, I’m not usually in the business of gossiping.” He begins, giving a slight chuckle, “However..John..” Hosea trails off and shakes his head, almost as if he isn’t sure how to phrase it. You sit quietly and allow him the space to think. After about half a minute, Hosea continues, gesturing with his hands as he speaks.

“You haveta understand that John and Arthur, they grew up tough. It was hard on them. Those boys…” Hosea sighs, “Me and Bessie, we couldn’t have kids. Probably for the best considering our lifestyle but..they were ours you know? We raised them as ours.” You smile and nod, imagining a pair of young (and grumpy) misfit teenagers.

Hosea sees you smile and laughs.

“You know, I don’t think John’s properly cut his hair since Bessie died. She used ta have Arthur pin him down just so she could shear that mop.” He grins while putting his head in his hands dramatically.

“Something I’m sure he appreciated greatly” you laugh. You look at Hosea and watch as his eyes swim with all the memories his heart clearly holds. He takes a moment and adjusts his hat, shielding himself from the bright sun. And possibly shielding his eyes from you.

“But as I was sayin’. They didn’t have it easy. Arthur’d been with us a long while before Dutch saved John..” Hosea continues but your brain jumped at the word “saved”. You opened your mouth to ask but Hosea cut you off, “Now I’ll let John tell you about his past. Some things a man should be allowed to keep to himself if he so chooses.”

You try to understand where Hosea is coming from but it just confuses you.

“Why share anything with me then? About John?” you ask, honestly curious as to why the older man would ‘indulge in gossip’ as he put it.

Hosea glances at you and gives a small, sweet smile, “Honestly? Because no one’s ever seemed bothered before...about how John is. Not since Bessie anyway…I think that might be the biggest reason he ran off.”

“Something was mentioned about him leaving….” You say quietly.

“Mmhm for about a year. After Jack was born…it was tough on him. But runnin’ off…” Hosea is the picture of a disappointed father as he shakes his head, “for a while we thought he was dead. But then people’d seen him about so. That’s when we knew. If I had’ta guess, I’d say that’s what hurt Arthur the most. Thinkin’ his brother was dead. Then finding out he’d just taken off.”

“I get it..” you say begrudgingly. Part of you had hoped Arthur was being petty in his feelings towards John but honestly you really did understand. You take a second to ponder over how someone might feel if you just took off one day, or night, without a word. The memories threatening to invade your mind make you feel less than relaxed so you jump back into the conversation with another question. “Did he just..waltz back in one day?”

“Basically” Hosea nods and gives a grim laugh, “I think he was expecting more of a fight. He came in with his back up, waitin’ for a punch but Arthur just…walked away.”

“That was probably worse.” You recognise and Hosea agrees. “John said he went to Arthur when Abigail told him she was pregnant. That all he said was that it was time to ‘be a man’.”

Hosea scoffs, “I’m sure he did. Arthur had his reasons for reacting that way…but I agree with what you’re getting at. He could’ve handled it better.”

Hosea gets up and stretches out his back with an over the top groan. You watch him as he settles his hands on his hips and turns to you. “Now, Miss Adler, why don’t you just ask what I know you’re dyin’ to ask.” He says smiling perceptively at you.

“John’s not Jack’s father is he?” you blurt out and Hosea lets out a long, deep breath before simply saying, “I don’t believe so, no.”

All of a sudden you jump up from your seat on the log, causing the older man to flinch. You stomp childishly over to Hosea and find yourself in front of him before your brain even registers that you’ve stood up.

“I don’t understand you people!” you almost yell, “He’s…he’s struggling. He doesn’t eat, do you know that? He thinks no one notices, but I did, I do. He doesn’t…people are...and well Abigail she’s..” you flail your arms around. Completely exasperated, “I don’t understand you all.”

You shake your head when Hosea stays quiet. You can see that part of him is ashamed. It’s in the way he hangs his head, avoiding eye contact with you completely. You go and sit back down on the log with a thud, “You all go on about being family…but when one of you are struggling….you’re just setting him up to fail.”

“I know it might seem that way y/n but John knew what he was riskin’ when he started seein’ Abigail. Dutch has always preached about goin’ outside’a camp for…companionship. Not that he practices it himself of course.” Hosea grumbles and comes to sit next to you as you listen, “I did warn him. As did Arthur.”

Hosea sighs and scratches at his chin. You don’t know what you’d expected when you decided to get answers from one of the gang’s elders, but this horrible sinking feeling wasn’t it. John’s situation seems well and truly stuck.

“Arthur’s always gained somethin’ from being alone. Like he thrives on that feelin’. Be it good or bad!” Hosea laughs humourlessly, “But John…being alone, it almost…cripples him. Used ta drive Arthur nuts, couldn’t get a moments peace when John was younger. Always wanting someone with him. Needing someone next to him when he slept.”

“That’s so…sad.” You say and Hosea looks at you. After a moment you both break into a morbid little chuckle which erupts into full blown laughter. You don’t know why you’re laughing, it’s horrible really. But it’s almost so sad that if you don’t find the humour in Arthur’s annoyance then all you’d do is cry.

“Oh and doesn’t that sum everything up nicely?” Hosea says once the laughter subsides, “Sad.”

You both sit quietly for a minute or two and just let the sun shine down on you.

“John’s always been sensitive” Hosea finally says, “It’s somethin’ Dutchs’ tried ta shake outta him over the years. He basically caused this…rivalry, between him and Arthur hoping it’d toughen him up.”

“Well, the man survived gunshots and a wolf attack. I’d say he’s pretty damn tough and I doubt very much that’s from years of being pitted against Arthur.” You say bitterly as your nostrils flare. You completely miss the smirk Hosea gives you. “So unless Abigail decides to be…forthcoming…with the truth…that’s that?” you ask, fully knowing the answer.

After a quiet pause Hosea says gently, “I know this world may be confusing fer you. If you ask me, you ‘nd your mother are better off out of it…not sayin’ you should just up and leave, but…I just think once you’re on yer feet…it may be worth thinkin’ long and hard about how you want your life to look.”

“And isn’t that the million-dollar question.” You say under your breath, but Hosea had still caught it and looks at you quizzically. “Sorry” you say laughing a little, “it’s something my pa used to say. When I asked for advice or his opinion…he used to say ‘now isn’t that the million-dollar question’.” You smile at the memory but find yourself falling into a pit of sadness. But before melancholy can completely set in, Hosea breaks the silence. 

“Now, I think I’ve been good and honest with you Miss Adler. Will you be honest with me?” Hosea asks, turning fully to look at you. You shrink under his intense gaze but nod anyway. “What is it about our Mr Marston that has you so…curious…as you put it?”

You know what Hosea is asking. He’s trying to suss out if you have romantic feelings or intentions towards John. Problem is, you don’t really know yourself. So instead of lying you decide to be completely truthful, part of you sensing that he’d know if you lied. So why try?

“Honestly Hosea…I don’t know.” You say before running your hands through your hair, getting it out of your face so you can look him in the eye better, “He was sweet to me. Kind. And, I think I want to repay that you know? Be a friend maybe…” You trail off and shrug, knowing it isn’t a concrete answer. It does however seem to satisfy Hosea who claps his hands onto his knees and pushes himself up.

“Alright then. Good enough.” He says holding out a hand to you. You take it and he helps you up from the log, “You know, my Bessie would’ve liked you. You have’a kind soul…but I also see the fire she used’ta have herself.”

“In that case I’ll take it as a wonderful compliment Mr Matthews.” You say making your way back to the wagon. “You know, I’d like to know more about her…if you ever feel like sharing.”

Ever the gentleman, Hosea helps you up onto the wagon and you smooth out your dress before sitting. You’re really looking forward to getting back into some jeans. After Hosea settles next to you, he quietly says, “I think I’ve had my fill of memories today Miss. But at another time, that’d be lovely.”

He gives you another soft smile before starting the horses back towards camp.


End file.
